The Busconductor Hines

by James Kelman

  Aye change the subject change the subject! Who’s got a fucking joke?

  McCulloch folded his arms and sat back on his seat.

  Ach that’s no fair, said a driver.

  Course it’s no, cried Hines. Come on yous mob, a bit of order for Mr McCulloch here; let him finish the story – I’m really involved in the outcome. What was it again? O aye, along comes Mackie with a 4½ minute cross for a watch and he jumps out a window shouting – what? what was it again?

  Bingo! laughed a conductor.

  A few others laughed. And Reilly leaned forwards, elbows on the table, glancing about him: Heh; any of yous heard the one about the three-legged priest in Ballymurphy?

  Aw Christ naw, no one of his! Quick: get the dominoes!

  Good idea, shouted McCulloch; if I cant get talking then neither’s any other cunt. And you can blame your mate for that Willie.

  I know, he’s always hated my jokes the bastard.

  Aye and no wonder ya cunt ye I’ve been hearing them for 43 fucking year!

  No this yin you’ve no. Reilly laughed, and glanced round again. There’s this young priest – 3 legs he’s got – right, straight out of college and they send him into Ballymurphy, the

  aye aye yippee, aye aye yippee yippee aye; she’ll be coming round the mountains when she comes, she’ll be coming round the mountains when she comes; she’ll be coming round the mountains, coming round the mountains; coming round the mountains when she comes; singing aye aye yippee yippee aye, singing aye

  The company were laughing. Hines took his fingers out his ears. Reilly was also laughing. Hines prised the lid off his tin: Sorry I missed the punchline, sounds as if it was good too.

  Reilly glanced at him. No sense of humour ya cunt that’s always been your problem.

  Hines nodded. I want to be a cowboy when I grow up.

  Get the dominoes! roared McCulloch.

  At the last terminus Reilly had switched off the engine and applied the handbrake. After a pause he left the driver’s cabin and came slowly down the aisle, peering in below the seats. Other drivers, he was muttering, they’re always supposed to be finding 50 pence pieces and pound notes and the rest of it but no me, naw; I’m no even asking for that much. 10 pence just, a lowly 10 pence; that would do, that would do me lovely.

  Hines lay outstretched on the rear seat, his boots resting on the frame of the seat in front; his eyelids were shut.

  Other conductors I’ve been on with, buying their drivers drink and grub and smokes but no you, naw, no him, not Mr Hines; a man could die of malnufuckingtrition with him for a conductor. An apology! Was that an apology?

  Time?

  Time! No good asking a fucking driver that ya mug ye. Reilly had swung the pocket-watch out from its pocket and was reading its face. 27 past I think and 10 seconds maybe 11, 12, 13 maybe 14.

  What?

  Reilly nodded.

  You kidding?

  Nope.

  22 more minutes to go you mean? Hines had sat up and was staring at him. I dont fucking believe this! Take your time – I told you to take your bastarn time: jesus god another 22 minutes, I’ll no make it.

  No my fault if the punters dont want the bus . . . Reilly opened a side window and spat out, then closed it.

  I cant take it; I just cant take it any more. Hines was lying along the seat again with his eyelids shut. Please doctor, I cant, honest sir I just cant take it sir please sir a couple of weeks on the sick sir.

  Reilly groaned.

  Listen ya cunt, said Hines twisting to sit upright: I saw you sitting tailing that bus on Paisley Road West. You cant fucking deny it now come on I mean what in the name of god were you playing at? How come you never dived right in and stole his punters? ya miserable imbecilic looking bastard ye, eh? Tell me that?

  Cause he was fucking due to be in front ya clown ye that’s fucking how. We were 10 fucking sharp as it was ya fucking idiot ye. Anyhow, that red-headed fucking Inspector’s always creeping about there at this time of the fucking night, as well ye fucking know, so dont give us any of your patter. I was taking a big enough chance as it was.

  Hines gaped at the roof.

  Reilly opened the window and spat out again.

  What a yarn. What a fucking yarn! O christ man the buses really have fucked him up good and proper. I mean what d’you think I’m new at the fucking game?

  Sometimes you act like it ya fucking idiot.

  Ho; listen to the patter. Look Reilly I mind fine when you were first out the stupid bastarn driving school: couldnt do enough for your conductors. No matter what by christ – a day like this man when here I am in a state of utter desolation, you’d have been out there dragging them in off the street just so’s my head could stay as an entire entity, an entire fucking entity ya cunt, but naw, no now; those days of the halcyon era have gone forever.

  Shite.

  It’s nowhere near shite. Another thing: you must think I’m a right fucking bampot! I mean you honestly trying to tell me you’d be running 10 minutes sharp if there was an Inspector creeping about! Ho; that is a good yin. 10 sharp! You! ya cowardly cunt ye . . . Hines closed his eyelids.

  I must be off my head coming back off the panel to this.

  You’ve never been on your fucking head.

  Get the tin out, I’ve no fags left.

  Fuck off. He took out the tin and tossed it to him. Roll it yourself – if you’ve got the ability . . . He picked a soiled newspaper sheet from the floor and glanced at it.

  Eventually Reilly returned him the tin. You definitely no going to the game next week?

  Naw.

  The ticket’s there if you want it.

  Nah; seriously man I need the dough. You’ll get rid of the thing no bother.

  Aye I know.

  Hines grinned after a moment. I just cant take that excitement any longer. Scottish football I mean it really gets you going, my heart, the angina and that.

  Fuck off.

  Time?

  39.

  39! merciful heavens.

  Ah it’s only 10 more minutes.

  O jesus sir please sir I’m sick of this eternal busconducting sir; please make them take me up the school for drivers and I promise to be a good boy sir I wont let you down, honest.

  Reilly snorted. A solid 2 months good timekeeping would see you there.

  3, according to accredited sources.

  Okay then 3 – just so long as they see you’re making an effort.

  Fuck you and your efforts: time?

  About 10.

  10! What d’you mean 10? it was 10 a half a bastarn hour ago.

  It only took me 6 weeks to get there.

  Aye I know ya crawling cunt ye – a couple of Masonic handshakes and all that. A good genuine atheist’s got no fucking chance in this grey but gold bundle of shite of a fucking city. And anyway man things have changed as well you know. They were overloaded with conductors in those days.

  Reilly hooted.

  Hines looked at him.

  They’re still overloaded with them ya cunt.

  Aye okay, right, fine. Hines nodded. Then tell me this ya imbecilic bastard: how come all these days-off are getting worked by the nicely nicely brigade?

  You talking about conductors?

  Course I’m talking about confuckingductors.

  There’s no conductors getting working their days-off.

  Dont kid yourself man it’s going on; it’s going on alright – they’re just doing it under cover.

  Shite.

  Is it fuck shite.

  Well it’s the first I’ve heard.

  Hh! so it cant be the genuine article! Well well well.

  I’ll believe it when I see it.

  Hines grunted, he shook his head and his eyelids shut; he inserted his forefingers into each ear and began chanting unintelligibly.

  Hup two three hup two three hup two three, come on there ya young whippersnapper let’s be having you. They stopped outside the entrance to the nursery then u
p and into the lobby. He helped him with his coat, hung it on a peg in the cloakroom but Paul grinned and lifted it back down, and he carried it to one with his name written below a picture of a submarine. Hines examined it. Did you stick this item up here? I mean d’you realise it’s a case of the imperial twitters?

  Paul grinned. Just then a woman came in, with a very wee girl who stared at Hines while her coat and mittens were being taken off.

  Cold yin the day, he said, real winter stuff.

  The woman smiled.

  He followed Paul into the main play-area and on to the library cupboard at the far side, away from any of the other kids. Picking a book he looked at the opening pages. Dont tell me you read this kind of childish rubbish!

  Paul grinned, nodding. His attention was caught by a long table nearby; on it were a stack of games and puzzles. He walked off.

  Right then, cheerio . . . Hines returned to the lobby, passing the Supervisor in the corridor.

  Mr Hines. Oh . . . your wife – is she in the play-area?

  What? No.

  O.

  He had the cashbag strap knotted round his fist, the hat tucked beneath his right elbow. Is there something wrong?

  No – well . . . she frowned. I was sure it was Mrs Hines’ turn for rota-duty this afternoon. Eh, could you just wait a minute please . . .

  Hines looked at her.

  It’ll only be a minute.

  He nodded. While she had gone he rolled a smoke, strolling up and down the corridor, looking at the paintings on the wall. She carried a file on her return.

  Yes, she said, indicating a list of names. Your wife actually should be here this afternoon.

  She’s working.

  O.

  She works part-time in an office.

  Mm. The Supervisor nodded. She did say she would be able to arrange things if and when her turn arose. You see Mr Hines we really do require parents to play their part occasionally – even if it is only once in a while. We feel it’s important.

  Hines nodded.

  She glanced at the listed names, holding the file in such a way that he too could read them. She cleared her throat. Did she forget d’you think?

  I’m not sure – probably, I mean I suppose so.

  Mm.

  He said nothing. He glanced at the names again and sniffed.

  You see the names . . . She was pointing to them. Mrs Semple there, she’s in this afternoon next to Mrs Hines and there tomorrow morning, Mrs Bryce – in fact Mrs Bryce’ll most likely stay the whole day; actually she enjoys it – a lot of parents do.

  He nodded.

  And really, we do feel the children benefit to quite a large extent from having their own parents involved. Actually it can relax them, particularly during the early settling-in period. Of course children are wary of new things Mr Hines. And they do like to know they arent simply being dumped.

  Hines inhaled on the cigarette. He’s been here a good few months now.

  O yes I know that. I wasnt referring to Paul especially, not at all – it’s just that some parents do seem to look on a nursery as a sort of child-minding organisation. And it isnt you know, it’s much more than that.

  Hines looked at her.

  She nodded, her head bowed over the file.

  Can I do it? I mean d’you want me to do it? I can do it if you like.

  O.

  If you like.

  Can you? it really would be a help.

  I’ll have to use your phone but – have you got one?

  Yes . . . if you’re sure it’s alright.

  Aye, I’m supposed to be starting in an hour but as long as I tell them in advance it’ll be okay.

  If you really are sure . . .

  Hines smiled. He followed her along to the office. She waited outside in the corridor while he was making the call and when she came in he said: Is it okay if I leave the hat and bag here?

  Of course. She chuckled. To be honest though Mr Hines, I have an idea the children would enjoy seeing them – the boys in particular. Paul mentions you quite a bit you know. I’m sure they’d be interested if you were to show them how to wear the bag. And your hat, your hat especially – you know how they are at that age!

  He had poured hot water from the kettle into the basin in the sink and was dabbing at the soap with his shaving brush. Then he stopped and glanced round at Sandra. These eyes of mine, he said, they’re like slits so they are . . . He began lathering his face and neck but paused to squint into the mirror again. A grey face. Two slits in a grey face. Even my hair by christ! I’ll need to get to that fucking barber.

  Mmhh.

  Terrible . . . He started shaving. When he had finished and was drying himself he continued, It’s good to know that in a short while from now I’ll be getting transported from point A to point B and charging a price for the privilege. I wonder if the fucking world’ll be standing still for a change. Tell you something Sandra: I’m definitely thinking of looking for another job.

  She made no response.

  Naw but seriously; one is occasionally required to consider the future.

  He felt the teapot and poured himself a cupful, added the milk and sugar. Just got time, he said, and he sat down on the armchair. Heh you wee man! no about time you finished that beautiful dinner your mummy made?

  He’s okay . . .

  Hines glanced at her and winked. He got up and walked to the table and bent over the boy’s shoulder. If you dont eat it I’m going to take it to work with me!

  Paul shifted on the chair.

  Hines pulled a face at Sandra. As he returned to his chair he glanced at the book she was reading. Good story that; quite influential in the formative years . . . He grinned and sat down, then he reached to the mantelpiece for his tin; he sipped at the tea. It was lukewarm; he set the cup onto the mantelpiece and rolled a cigarette. He glanced at the clock. Well . . . I suppose I suppose. He looked to Sandra but she didnt acknowledge him. He lit the cigarette.

  Five to three I thought you reported? Her gaze had remained on the book.

  What? aye. 1457 to be precise. I suppose I can hang on another 10 minutes. A quick coffee maybe.

  Sandra was still gazing at the book but it was now lying on her lap; and her left hand came to the side of her face, shielding most of it from him. He stared at the fire-surround for a time, then gradually moved his head so that he could see Paul – he was still attending to the food on his plate.

  Her shoulders quivered and she had brought both hands to her face. Hines cleared his throat quietly and left his chair. And he stood between her and Paul; when he touched her shoulder the quivering halted but then continued.

  He bent to her and put his arms round her and cuddled her very tightly, and made as if to speak but didnt; he cleared his throat again. At last her body stiffened; she allowed her head to rest against his shoulder. Then she moved from him and taking a paper tissue from her sleeve she dabbed at her eyes. O God, she whispered.

  Hines was still holding her; his hands to the tops of her arms; he knelt between her legs.

  I hate Sundays.

  I know.

  She blew her nose.

  He kissed her on the mouth.

  Daddy! Paul twisting on his seat and showing an almost empty plate.

  Right fine okay okay, you can leave it, you can leave it. I’ve nearly ate it all.

  Aye, you’re doing fine.

  Paul was already down off his seat and coming towards them; but he switched on the television and got himself into his usual position a couple of yards from the screen.

  You better go.

  I dont better go at all.

  Of course you do.

  He paused. I can come home during the break.

  Dont be daft.

  I can.

  There’s never enough time on lateshift – you just get here and you’ve got to be leaving again.

  Hines looked at her.

  It’s alright.

  Jesus. He shook his head and rose a lit
tle, so that he could lean in more closely to her and they kissed. Paul tugged at him and called: See this!

  He winked at Sandra and turned to see the screen. O aye, christ! He turned back and kissed her again, and when they broke he said: How come I always get kissed like that when I’ve got to walk out the fucking front door!

  She grinned. So you’ll come back.

  Hines laughed. Heh, why dont the two of you go over to your mother’s?

  She shook her head.

  Go to the Drum then; my maw and da’d be delighted.

  They prefer it when you come.

  He shrugged.

  I might do.

  It’d be good if you did actually – a while since we’ve seen them.

  Sandra nodded. You better be going.

  Aye . . . He leaned to kiss her again.

  2

  Holding Sandra by the elbow he pushed a way through the crowded lounge bar, passing directly in front of the raised platform upon which the entertainment would take place. In a sort of alcove to the far side Reilly was sitting with McCulloch and Colin, and two other men; at a table adjacent to theirs sat Isobel with McCulloch’s wife and Colin’s fiancée, and two other women. Sandra noticed and he whispered, Sorry . . . she didnt reply. I’ll try and get it sorted out, he muttered. He watched her go to the empty seat at the women’s table and then sat down on the one the men had kept for him. The other two men were introduced as Stewart and Donnie; both were drivers, operating out of a garage on the south side of the city.

  McCulloch was in charge of the kitty; when the waitress eventually appeared Hines passed him the £5 and called to Sandra: Brandy and champagne Mrs Hines?

  She smiled. The other women were involved in conversation.

  Naw, he said to the waitress, a martini and lemonade – dry. And a pint of heavy. The others had just ordered a round. Hines winked at Sandra then he brought out the tin.

  Eh Rab? McCulloch was attracting his attention, the other four glancing at him. A guy called Farquhar, a driver? You must mind him surely! smashed two buses on his first day out on the road?